


Some Days

by Unuora



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fight Scenes, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unuora/pseuds/Unuora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something fluffy. A glimpse of one of Karkat's and John's less than normal days as derpy roommates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Days

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic, I really hope you enjoy!

You have no idea what happened, but god damn, you don't care.

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are beyond angry.

You're not even too sure what happened, but John got hurt because of it.

John and a few of his other school friends were doing something stupid together, god knows what. John called it soccer. You have no idea what the fuck that is, but you think that is such a stupid name for a game.

You silently excused yourself from participating. By silently you mean explosively and ending in you sulking away, but whatever.

You told John you'd be back in a while and went down the road for some lunch. You literally left for less than twenty minutes, and you were not pleased with what you found when you came back.

John was standing alone, surrounded by these stupid looking human boys. You don't know who they are, and you're pretty good at knowing John's friends. He only has a handful outside of sixteen of you that somehow became friends, so it's pretty easy.

You were about to dismiss it as some other stupid game, but that was until the one boy pulled his arm back and slammed John across the face.

You heard the soda you were holding land on the pavement several feet behind you before you even realized you were running.

You watched in horror as the group closes in on John. John's on the ground now and you were too far away to help right now, and you're doing everything in your power to change that, because like hell you're just gonna stand by as he get's beat into the ground. Despite the rushing white-noise in your head you quickly notice a very important fact.

John was bleeding. Ruby droplets were smeared across his face and this boy had the goddamned nerve to just stand there with a shit-eating grin that would give Terezi a run for her money.

You stare at John and you're four feet away and you have the most absurd notion that he's dead and oh god that sends you right off the fucking handle.

You've got tunnel vision and all you can see is John on the ground as you rush over to him. You ignore everything around you except for John, John, John.

You quickly realize his eyes are closed and fuck, it looks like his nose is broken and they're blood everywhere. Fear is running thickly through your veins, and oh god, you are so sorry. You regret every insult you ever gave him in these brief terrifying seconds.

Your shaking hands skitter just above his naturally pale skin to rest on his neck to feel his pulse. You breathe a hesitant sigh of relief when you hear it, strong and clear and you see John's eyes flutter open hazily.

You're about to grab John and run to go find Kanaya or Rose or someone to help to make sure he's ok. You don't notice anything else until someone speaks up.

A voice that sounds just as obnoxious as the face it's bound to rings out, "Oh, the little princess has a knight in shining armor, eh?"

You spin around so fast your entire world spins, your teeth are bared and you've never felt so angry before in your entire life. Somehow the relief of this entire incident is more terrifying then the scare itself.

"You-- How fucking--" for once you're at a complete loss for words. Since your voice is temporarily out of service, you settle for a feral growl. Your hands end up in fists and now you're shaking in rage not fear. That ugly mouth opens again and you stop it before it even has a chance to break your ears.

Your fist connects with his face so hard you feel the shock echoing in your feet.

The blood is roaring in your ears, and the world is moving in slow motion. You watch as the other three guys slowly move to surround you, but the adrenaline in your veins is pumping too hard for you to move slowly. You sucker punch another guy before he even has the chance to move.

Only problem with your plan is that the guy behind you takes advantage of your distraction. You were already off balance when you feel hands on your shoulders and suddenly you're watching the world spin from a nice rocky bed on the pavement. The light catches off a scarlet smear on the ground in front of you, and you hardly notice it. All you care about is getting these guys to fuck off.

You're on your feet in seconds. Your foot is flying through the air and you hear more than feel the kick resonating around you.

You take a quick head count. The first two guys fled, two are left, and you just left the last guy breathless on the ground - one more to go.

You stalk closer to the guy you're after. His expression resembles a scared rabbit. You assume these guys have never dealt with an angry troll before. You suppose that's his problem.

"Listen, man," he starts. You take a step threatening step forward. You're too far gone for words right now. Fight or flight. You chose fight about three punches ago.

You don't even get to chance to hit him though, lightning reflexes and all. He's running away, and not looking back.

You can't help but stand triumphant for a moment. Too bad your glory doesn't last.

In your haste, you've failed to teach guy number three enough of a lesson. He brings you down from behind so hard black edges into your vision. You feel sick and breathless and it takes you a moment to find your scattered thoughts again.

You subconsciously curse your size. If you were built like Equius, then they'd be holes in the brick walls instead of in your head.

You snarl angrily while you attempt to find your feet. You feel blood streak down your face- given your face feels like it was ground with sandpaper. You pledge to ignore that for now.  
Once your senses come back, the first thing you realize you're not on the ground. This punk has you pinned firmly against the wall. 

The second thing you realize is he's got his dirty hands around your throat.

The lack of air isn't too much of your concern. You're not a superhero, but you can outlast any human when it comes to holding your breath. It's the lack of mobility that really scares you. You keep a straight face despite the fact you want to flip the fuck out.

You're dwarfed compared to him, and he's got you pinned in a way that you can't move worth jack shit.  
Before you near the peak of your little anxiety attack, you feel him let go. Just like that.

You fall to the ground, coughing. You belatedly realize how lightheaded you are. Wow. It takes you a moment to look up to see what exactly just happened.

You see John standing above you looking slightly terrified. His hands are splayed out in front of him and you realize he's the reason the guy who was trying to kill you is laying face down next to you.

You'd never admit to doing this, but you launch yourself into John's arms. You love every second of it despite the way it makes your head spin uncomfortably. Ugh.

You both stumble back a few steps from the force, and you hear a light breathy giggle escape his lips. You're so glad he's ok- hence the flying hug tackle.

You quickly let go as soon as you realize what you're doing. The first thing you see other than smeared colors is John's genuinely happy face.

How the hell he can be this happy when he was just used as a street mop, you'll never know. He's just like that, you guess.

"Thanks Karkat," you hear John say, "That was really brave of you, man." You feel faintly proud. You also feel obligated to respond despite the fact you've got nothing good to say.

"Whatever," you say, "It was no big deal. Just get me home."

You're grateful he leaves it at that for now.  
\---  
One stumbling trip and what seems like three centuries later, you find yourself at John's hive… house. Whatever the hell it is.

You literally collapse into the sofa. You listen as the springs creak under you. You feel like you were thrown into a garbage compressor.

You don't realize that you actually vocalized that until John comments back from the kitchen.

"You know you didn't have to do that, right? They would've left me alone eventually."

You scoff harshly into the arm rest of the couch. Not back to this.

"Shut it, Egbert. You were out-fucking-cold. I wasn't going to just stand there and let it happen." Your words sounded weak. You blame it on the pillow you've currently got your face buried in.

He laughs a little bit, and you feel like he's going to speak again but you stop him, "Who the fuck were those guys in the first place?" You struggle to keep your voice placid. You kinda want to go out and punch those guys again for good measure.

"Oh," is all he says for a minute. You're about to open your mouth again to question him when he gives you a decent answer. "They're just… bullies. This time it was about that girl I was hanging out with before. That one guy was her boyfriend," he pauses again and your mind flashes to that short blond girl that John was hanging out with. John liked her, but not enough to be romantic. You've been on earth long enough to figure out that that guy is just being an ass.  
"A little while after you left our soccer game ended because my goalie had to go home. I was waiting for you and then those guys came and started yelling at me and, well, yeah," he finishes abruptly.

"That's fucking stupid," you say, for lack of anything better. You waste a few moments grumbling into the armrest before you belatedly realize you're probably getting blood on the cushions.

You mentally curse and you're about to get up when John tells you he doesn't care about the damned cushions, and that you better stay on the couch.

You really have to get that accidental vocalization thing under control.

You half-heartedly mumble something about John being stupid and suddenly you feel gentle hands on the back of your neck. You sit up awkwardly and wow, you're kinda dizzy.

Your head is swimming and you catch John's concerned eyes. He mumbles something about you needing medical attention; you expect him to say something about going to the hospital and you're immediately ready to protest, but… he doesn't. "I've already called Kanaya. She'll be here in a minute," is what he says instead.

Damn, he's getting good.

Somehow he's already realized that you'd never cooperate enough to go to a human doctor and he's already called the best troll doctor you know, and that person also happens to be one of your best friends. Only one more thing… "And yes, she will also fix my nose."

God dammit, John.

"Stop that. You've been hanging out with Serket too much. You've officially gained mind reading abilities," you mumble into your hands, which somehow ended up on your face.

You feel gross and your head is throbbing, but somehow, you're ok with the fact that John's arms are around you again and that somehow getting beat up is an improvement to your normal Friday afternoons.

\---

You hardly remember Kanaya ever coming over. John helped you clean up the blood on your face before Kanaya showed up, and you vaguely remember her greeting you, but you've must've dozed off. Well, John's always bitching to you about getting more sleep. So there ya go, you slept- congrats.

Your dreams are shattered by John nudging your arm and the smell of food.

Not an entirely bad way to wake up. You've woken up by more annoying things. Like the fire alarm for example; when John forgot to turn off the stove and you ended up running around your apartment in your boxers trying to stop a raging stove-top fire.

Yeah, you'd take Egbert's food as long as he doesn't burn your apartment down.

You open your eyes hazily, and you catch John's blurred silhouette. You realize he's made food for you. To top it off, he made your favorite.

Sure, it isn't the first time he's cooked for you. You actually take turns making dinner, even though John's better, but today was your day to cook.

Ugh, your head still hurts. You bring a hand across your face, "You should've woke me up," is all you say.  
Despite the fact you have your eyes closed, you practically sense that John's shaking his head. You open your eyes to find out that, wow, yeah, you were right.

"No, no," he mumbles, pausing for a moment, "Kanaya says you have a minor concussion," he says, changing the subject a bit.

You groan, "And what does that mean?" So what, you're concussed. It doesn't need a god damned cast, and you're not crippled. Shit will go on normally.

"It means that you're gonna sit your ass down and accept my help for a little while," John says a little irritably. His gaze is burning your eyes, and you almost look away, but he beats you to it. After a moment he speaks up again. "You scared me, you know," His voice is unbearably quiet.

You open your mouth to start throwing a shit fit about how a troll would never be bested by stupid humans when you realize, oh shit, he thinks it's his fault.

"John," you start, giving him an even stare, "I'm fine. Those guys had it coming. It's not your fucking fault."

His gaze shoots up to meet yours for a moment. For a second, you think he's going to protest and argue some more, but he doesn't. He smiles his dorky little smile and laughs that laugh that echoes through your mind.

"Alright, alright," his laughing ceases and he looks at you, and you once again realize how shockingly blue his eyes are. "You're still gonna take it easy for a little while, though. I don't care what you say."

You smirk a little- you can't help it. You make believe you're frustrated and sigh dramatically. You also pretend that John doesn't know it's fake.

"Fine," you drawl, "One fucking condition though, you numbskull." He returns the smirk tenfold, and you fight the grin that's edging on your face. "No burning my already concussed think-pan with your awful cinema and Nic Cage movies. This weekend's my movie night and you'll watch all the brain-blistering romcoms I can think of."

You give him credit for the overdramatic sarcastic sigh that escapes his lips. You make room for him on this shitty couch before he continues. "God, you're hard to please. I'm like a fucking servant to your royal ass," he moans mockingly as he's positioning his and your food on the side tables, "but fiiine, if we have to; but my turn for the conditions: we have to order Chinese tomorrow."

Stupid little shit. He's just trying to make sure you won't try to cook tomorrow.

"Only if I pay," you counter. You watch him sigh and he agrees with fewer words this time around. "Now that that's settled, go fetch me my damned romcoms you fucking slave," you yell mockingly. You hear him laughing as he walked to the movie cases and a few seconds later several CD cases were being thrown at you.

You put your arms up half heartedly as your movies fly all over the god damned room. By the time you think the movie storm is over you find that the carpet space in front of you is completely covered in a big pile of romcoms.

You move your arms from your face to give John a deadpan stare that makes him fall into laughter. You'd rather not waste your breath on long-winded rants right now. You just want to get this show on the road.

"Pick one already! I didn't go through all that trouble to transport them over to you for you to sit there looking dumb." You sift through the movie pile for a moment, stacking a few that you might consider later on the coffee table.

"I don't look dumb, I look fucking fabulous- shut up," you mumble quietly, but judging by the smirk he heard it anyways. "Here," you say as you chuck the movie you decided on back at him. You watch as he crams the movie in and makes his way back over to you with the remote in hand. By the time he masters the maze that is your living room; you're almost half way through scarfing down the food John made you.

You are not gonna fucking lie, John is the best cook. The best cook ever.

Just as the intro of the movie starts, you turn to John again, "You know this means that once I'm 'better' by your standards I'm going to bring you all over town and spend fuck-loads of money on you and god dammit I'm not even going to ask if that's ok because, yes, you're ok with it because I said so." It all comes out in one breath, and John breaks his vigil on watching the movie to turn and grin at you. He opens his mouth but you're not finished yet.

"And you better promise because, yes, this is totally fucking happening and I'm not going to listen to anything else," you spit out next. His mouth snaps shut but the grin is still stuck on his face.

Next thing you know, he's leaning in and you hear him murmuring, "Oh yeah, I promise."

You seal the deal when his lips meet yours.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! :o Critiques would be nice-- thanks for reading! c:


End file.
